


Unexpected Gifts, Plus More

by RooOJoy, Rosella_Burgundy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, Care of Magical Creatures, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, F/M, Mystical Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 10:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17140274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RooOJoy/pseuds/RooOJoy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosella_Burgundy/pseuds/Rosella_Burgundy
Summary: In an attempt to make Hermione happy for Christmas, Draco follows Harry's advice to the letter and ends up surprising both Hermione and himself.





	Unexpected Gifts, Plus More

**Author's Note:**

> Props to the group Dramione Fanfiction Writers for hosting this fest - we're having tons of fun playing in the world JKR created. 
> 
> A big thank you to Kyonomiko for reading over this story for us - all mistakes left are our own.

 

 

Draco drummed his fingers against the wooden table top with a nervous tap-tap-tap as he stared at the glass of firewhisky before him. The surface of the liquid rippled in time with the reverberations of his fidgeting. In the opposite chair sat a bewildered Harry Potter, his hand slightly tipping his glass side to side to make its content swish around precariously close to the rim of the crystal, something that annoyed Draco immensely. Potter had been obviously eyeing him the past five minutes, tilting his scarred head from side to side, blatantly trying to read him.

“I’m not used to you just staring at your drink. Something’s bothering you,” Potter stated finally, a note of resolution in his voice as he held his head high, a slow smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Draco moved his eyes to him and held the man’s green stare. Harry broke their gaze first and looked down at the untouched drink and back up to Draco in indication. Draco was hesitant at the game they were currently playing, but his mouth watered with the need of the burning liquid and he conceded, bringing the glass to his lips and gulping down the liquid whole.

“I don't know what bothers me more, Potter, the fact that you know me well enough to recognize when I'm upset, or myself for not knowing something that Hermione does.”

Harry adjusted his glasses, wrinkling his nose with a sniffle, effectively sliding them up. “Well, Hermione does know a lot of things that we normal people either ignore or think superfluous so -”

Draco groaned. “Oh shut up, Potter,” he spat. “I need your help,” he added in a hushed tone, grimacing at the words that came unwarranted from his mouth, as though asking for Potter to come to his rescue were a degrading thing. His self disgust was palpable because, despite that they were friends, Draco was still a Malfoy and Malfoys didn't ask for help.

“Sure, what do you need my help with?” Harry answered, his voice loud, ringing over the boisterous, evening crowd. Draco flinched, and quickly scanned the room, making sure that nobody else in the pub had heard them. Fortunately, the other patrons were either already pissed or on their way there and weren't paying attention to the somewhat odd sight of Potter and Malfoy drinking together without other companions.

Draco glared at the messy-haired man across from him as Harry took another sip of his drink, attempting and failing to hide the obvious enjoyment of his situation. They had been friends for a few years now, thanks to his love for Hermione that forced them to coexist. Even Pansy, his best friend, somehow fell for Weasel Boy after they all started going out together. Without the animosity of choosing a side during a pointless war, Harry and Draco found they actually did enjoy each other’s company, even if in the current moment, Draco wished nothing more than to hex the man to grow warts in his arse crack.

Finally, Draco asked, “What are the Twelve Days of Christmas?” He could feel the warmth of a pink blush creeping up his neck, betraying him by settling all the way on his high cheekbones. Finally resigned to rely on Potter for more information, he further explained, “Hermione told me that she wants _that_ for Christmas this year, and hinted that it would make up for me being the Grouch last year.”

~*~

Harry’s eyes widened and he began choking on his last swallow of liquid. He took great gulps of air, his eyes watering as he regained his composure before he broke into a full belly laugh, a hand hitting the table with an open palm. His amusement didn’t last long though as he met Draco’s grey eyes morphing into two slits of dangerous stormy charcoal.

He stopped, cleared his throat, and inhaled deeply. “The Grinch,” he corrected.

By the look on Draco’s face, his narrowed eyes, and the line across his brow, he didn’t know what Harry was referring to. He raised one blond eyebrow high, prompting Harry to continue. By the glare he was giving him, he also meant to tread carefully.

“Hermione told you that last year you were not very jolly for Christmas, much like the Grinch, not the Grouch.”

Harry’s lips began to twitch and he almost started laughing again but stopped himself in time, taking a rather large drink to cover his tracks and give himself a moment to regain his face. It didn't take long before his face split into a wide grin and he sat up straighter, the laughter bubbling from his limbs in a twitching manner. “I can actually see it,” he snickered. “The evil smirk, the hate for everything merry and bright, the shady past…” Harry finished, his barely contained chuckle erupting into a fit of laughter.

The laughing wizard watched with watering eyes as Draco turned his attention with a grunt from their table and began searching for the barman. Catching his attention, he promptly called for another round of firewhisky.

Draco gave Potter the most unimpressed look. “Whatever, Potter. So, do you know what the damned too many days of Christmas are or not?”

“Yes. It’s a Muggle Christmas Carol.” Harry thought about explaining to Draco that the twelve days of Christmas was the period that in Christian theology stretched between the birth of Jesus and the coming of the three wise men, but he couldn’t miss the chance to take the piss out of him. “It’s about a person giving gifts to their beloved for twelve days from Christmas to January sixth.”

Draco seemed to blanch at the idea of giving any person a gift every day for twelve days, let alone someone like Hermione who would indeed think each gift needed proper thought and concern to its recipient. The barkeeper brought another round of drinks to the pair, and Draco swallowed his own, promptly asking for another.

“That’s a fucking nightmare. Choosing one Christmas gift for Hermione is hard enough, but twelve? Bloody hell, have I been cursed or something?”

Harry thought that Draco was on the verge of a panic attack, his shaky voice rising to a high pitch that sounded much more like Ron’s when he saw Aragog for the first time. Harry was not going to say that out loud, though, not if he wanted to continue to be the Boy-Who-Lived.

He decided to ease Draco’s worries. “You don’t have to choose the gifts - the song tells you exactly what to get her each day.”

After considering listing the gifts as the Twisted Sisters rock band intended them, he decided to go with the Christian version, fearing Hermione would kill him if she found out he had given the idea for an Ozzy tattoo and seven leather jackets. “The first day you need to get a partridge in a pear tree, and the second day I believe the gift is a couple of turtle doves…” Harry paused trying to remember what the third day was.

It was something French, but he couldn’t think of what it was. The only thing coming to mind was Fleur because she was French. Then, like he was hit with a mind clearing charm, the idea came to him. How much trouble would he get into if he prompted Malfoy with magical creatures? It would be an epic prank, and the more the thought lingered, the more he decided it was worth the threat of an angry Hermione to see this played out.

Smiling, Harry continued, “Muggles also like fantastic beasts that they think are just myths. For day three, you must gift her with three Hippogriffs.” Harry fought the laughter that was building inside of him as the man’s eyes across him widened. “Do try not to be a dick to the creatures this time.”

Draco shot him a glare that could have killed the three beasts at once, but Harry ignored it and continued, “Day four are Nifflers, day five are Bowtruckles...” and he went on and on with a list of magical creatures.

The conversation continued as the drinks in front of them never emptied.  Many glasses of alcohol later led Harry and Draco stumbling from the Leaky and onto the cobblestones of Diagon Alley. From there they made to a series of illegal beast purchases in Knockturn Alley. Draco insisted that Harry help him with the shopping, especially the first two Muggle animals since he had no idea what partridges or turtle doves were. The sneaking around and the blatant disregard for laws almost made Harry rethink his prank, but he forced himself to help Draco nonetheless - even George would appreciate this prank at its most elaborate proportions.

* * *

A tall bird cage, holding a young and gangly pear tree, sat in the corner of the sitting area. The tree had yet to bear the green fruit, but the white flowers proved it wouldn’t be long. Hermione had to admit that while she had no desire for a bird, the tree was rather pretty.

With a frown, Hermione observed the puffy, tan and black partridge hop about, flopping among the branches. Its red-rimmed beady eyes glanced at her every so often before it hooted softly. With a frustrated mewing noise, Crookshanks swatted at the bird, his huge paw trying to slide past the thin opening between the cage bars, his hunting instincts taking over him.

The bell to the floo rang and Hermione hurried to the fireplace to greet Pansy just as the flames burned a bright green and the witch stepped forward, brushing soot from her cloak. She had been waiting for her since the early hours of that Boxing Day when she had scrawled her a hurried note to come to her flat as soon as possible.

“About time!” she scolded the witch, dragging her inside the sitting room by the wrist.

“What’s going on?” Pansy asked, a hint of amusement on her angular face.

Hermione ignored the silent laughter coming from the woman at her side and pulled her to the sofa. In front of two fuming cups of tea and with her half Kneazle feline on her lap - who kept glancing at the bird in the corner - Hermione explained what Draco had gifted her. Getting more upset the more she talked, her words came faster, and her voice got higher until she shoved her cat off her lap and started pacing around. Pansy’s eyes followed Hermione as she wore a new path into the carpet.

A sound at the door paused Hermione in her pacing, and she made her way to the peephole. “You’ve got to be kidding me? That bastard,” she whispered as she removed her eye and opened the door.

Hermione greeted a man standing on their stoop in the pouring rain. “I have a delivery for a Miss Hermione Granger,” he said loudly over the sound of water hitting the pavement.

Hermione thanked the man as he handed over her dripping package, an oddly shaped parcel with a white sheet covering the contents. Moving back to the sitting room, Pansy must have not been able to contain her curiosity and was waiting just inside the room. The glint in Pansy’s eye as her focus landed on the delivery only solidified what Hermione could swear was some kind of cage similar to the partridge’s one, just smaller. There was no point in hesitating, she lifted the fabric upwards revealing what had been delivered.

“He’s really gone mental, hasn’t he?” Hermione stood in the sitting area of her flat, Pansy right beside her with a smirk plastered across her face. “Well, you did tell him to get creative this year.” Pansy folded her arms across her chest, trying desperately to keep her cackling to herself. “Yeah, but when I said that I wanted twelve days of Christmas, I didn’t mean literally!” she shrieked, as she held a cage of two pristine white turtle doves, cooing lovingly beside each other.     “Two down...ten to go.” Pansy lost control and began to wail hilariously.

The laughter spread throughout the flat, and even Hermione cracked a smile if only because watching Pansy react that way was something she didn’t often get the pleasure of witnessing. As her laughter died away, another sound emitted from somewhere. Pansy stopped immediately, reaching out to grip Hermione’s forearm, her manicured nails digging into her flesh. The sound came again - it was a low moaning noise with an almost odd, mournful tone to it. Pansy and Hermione first looked around and then at each other with a puzzled look.

“What in the name of Merlin was that?” they shrieked at the same time as another sound fractured the silence, sounding like a crying bird. Startled, Crookshanks jumped off the chair he had been occupying with an angry hiss and scurried off down the hall.

“I think it came from your bedroom,” Pansy said with a hint of fear in her voice.

Hesitantly, they approached the bedroom, Hermione a few steps ahead, and both witches firmly grasping their wands. Once they stood in front of the closed door, side by side, they gave each other a nod and Hermione flung the door open slowly, the hinges groaning in protest. They peeked into the room, hearts pounding at what they would find, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. Her bed was made, the duvet smooth over the mattress, not a wrinkle to be seen. The armoire door was closed, the floor clear of any evidence that the noise even came from here.

The room was silent for a moment, but after only a few slow breaths, another sound echoed the room making their very insides reverberate the echo in trepidation. A hiss, then a sharp chirp, a heavy huff, and a tap-tap against what sounded like glass.

Hermione, never one to back away from anything that posed a question, began searching her bedroom for the source of the commotion. Heading straight for the armoire she found it empty except for the contents it always stored. Dropping to the floor, she ignored the quiet noise of amusement coming from Pansy still in the doorway, and looked under the bed with a Wand-Lighting Charm - nothing. Her old school trunk sat at the end of the bed and she crawled towards it, lifting the lid to see it contained only books and parchment.

Sitting on her bum, she looked around the room, her eyes landing on the only remaining furniture - the chest was the last thing to inspect.

Hermione stood and slowly approached it as Pansy followed, one step behind. The former Gryffindor witch opened her side of the drawers one by one. It appeared normal; perhaps a little messy she thought with embarrassment, noticing the way Pansy looked at her with a disappointed, mocking glare.

“You have too many red knickers in there. I should take you shopping and buy you proper undergarments. Green would look beautiful on your skin tone,”  Pansy chastised her with a witty and haughty posture.

Hermione rose an eyebrow at her, something she learned from the witch herself, prompting her to drop the subject.

Pansy opened her mouth to speak, but a sudden rattling noise from Draco’s side of the chest left her with her words hanging out of her mouth. Brows pinched together, Hermione hesitated as she stared at her fiance’s drawers. He had just agreed to move in with her not even a month prior, and she wasn’t sure that snooping around his stuff was a good idea. He had been really reluctant to the idea of sharing a small flat in London instead of living in the more spacious and luxurious Malfoy Manor; which Hermione had categorically refused to step in the mansion, after what happened to her in there and that had started an argument of catastrophic proportions.

Seeing Hermione’s hesitation, Pansy, who had no qualms invading people’s privacy, opened the top drawer and nodded at Draco’s choice of underpants. Black, emerald, and white boxer briefs were neatly folded and stored in perfectly straight rows. Next to them, there were perfectly rolled black socks and white vests. Hermione scoffed at Draco’s maniacal need for order. The second drawer was full of old t-shirts, divided by colour and theme, Slytherin green and black were the predominant hues.

Finally gathering the nerves to intrude Draco’s personal space, Hermione moved to open the third and last compartment before Pansy could, and her jaw fell open so widely that it was at risk of being dislocated.

Pansy and Hermione stared at steps that descended down into the drawer and out of sight inside the chest. Neither of the witches moved or said a word for a few moments, not until Crookshanks, who seemed to appear out of nowhere, meowed and jumped onto the top of the chest, making them both jolt upright.

The appearance of her half Kneazle propelled Hermione into action, and she lifted her wand, stepping her foot on the first step inside the drawer. “Let’s go!”

Before she could go any further, Pansy clutched a hand on her forearm to stop her. “Do you think it’s safe?” she asked hesitantly.

The former Gryffindor shot her a fearless glance. She was a bit hesitant herself, but she really wanted to see what Draco was planning. Quite honestly, she was very curious to see what he had hidden from her in their very own bedroom. Surely it couldn’t be too bad.  “Don’t be a coward, I want to get to the bottom of this. Literally!”

She chuckled back at the stricken look upon her friends face as she descended the wooden steps inside the magical drawer. The stairs spiralled down in one steep case. As she slowed her movements, coming to the bottom, her mirth died immediately as she took in the vastity of what Draco had been hiding down there.

Draco had charmed the enlarged space to contain a series of enchanted habitats for all sorts of magical creatures. It seemed from her side of the enclosures that the only thing that kept the beasts from running free were wards set up to keep them safely in their own habitats. The beasts were displayed in a perfect circle around the edges of the round space, interrupted only by the staircase in the middle.

“I’m going to end the Malfoy line tonight!” Hermione whispered in shock as she took in the sight of ten different animal containment enclosures surrounding her.

In the cage closest to her, a vast plain of green grass extended for as far as eyes could see. A placid lake laid in the centre, and two majestic pearly-white hippogriffs pawed the ground looking for worms.

“That wizard really loves you, Granger. Trust me, he hates those creatures,” Pansy pointed out as she made her way to the bottom of the stairs, her wand still clutched tightly in her fist. Hermione chuckled, recalling how Draco overworked the injury inflicted on him by Buckbeak.

Pansy joined her side, and they both let out an audible _aww_ as they noticed a freshly hatched baby hippogriff that was trying to get up from its bed in a leafy bush, flapping its little feathered wings. “Well, it looks like Draco is not taking the carol literally after all,” Hermione said, recognizing immediately that magical beasts were certainly not one of the gifts in The Twelve Days of Christmas.

Crookshanks announced his arrival as he wound his body through the legs of Hermione. She glanced down to him as he chirped in delight at the sight of all magical creatures that were contained here. He ran to explore the place, his bushy tail high in the air, only to halt in front of one of the cages, his interest sparked by its content.

Hermione and Pansy paced to the next enclosure which gave Hermione a sad dejavù. It resembled a vault at Gringotts; dimly lit and looking as though it were deep underground - the walls were dark with packed earth and stone. A mountain of coins, jewels, goblets, and shiny jewellery towered in the habitat. Hermione squinted her eyes, trying to spot what creature could be hiding in the mound of gold and hoping to Merlin that it wasn’t a dragon - she remembered reading of Smaug and his gold horde. A little movement of coins on the far right caught her attention, and she followed the trail of shaking gold until she finally saw the occupants of the vault. Four goofy creatures were collecting galleons and stuffing them deep in their pocketed bellies. They resembled a weird mix between a mole and a platypus, black fur and a long snout that they seemed to be using to sniff out their treasure.

“I believe those are called Nifflers,” Pansy said, head tilted on a side.

“You’re right, they are. Do you remember them from Care of Magical Creatures?” Hermione asked, her tone suggesting her surprise that Pansy had any inclination of what these beasts were.

“As much as I found that big oaf, Hagrid, annoying, I actually quite enjoyed the class,” Pansy replied, setting Hermione in her place with one of her perfected smirks, before turning her attention back to the separation between them and the treasure filled enclosure. “Do you think we can get in?” Pansy asked, her dark eyes dancing with curiosity.

“No way, those things look like they want to rob us, and I’d like to keep my engagement ring, thank you very much.” Hermione scowled at a Niffler that had approached the ward and was currently eyeing her most precious jewel, its long snout wiggling in avidity.

Crookshanks emitted low purrs while pacing in front of the shimmery ward a few habitats away. He was clearly extremely captivated by whatever was in there, but Hermione turned her attention from him and checked out the next enclosure closest to her.

The scene was gorgeous, even though the space was a bit tinier than the previous two. A thick forest of Wiggentrees was all she could see, their winding and knotty limbs intertwining amongst each other, the green leaves cascading over the bucolic landscape. Hermione was instantly intrigued by the view, and with Pansy’s curiosity of entering through the wards in the previous enclosure, she stepped into the habitat, the ward granting her access gladly.

She stood next to a regal tree, taking in its glory just as she noticed a slight movement on the bark of the trunk. Getting closer, and focusing on the twitching, she made out the tiny creature she knew to be a Bowtruckle. Straining her sight around the rest of the tree, she made out a total of five of the twig like creatures, each of them waving to her shyly before going back to their digging of woodlice with their long, sharp fingers. Hermione remembered these creatures from school, the protectors of wand wood trees, and she smiled, fascinated by the palm sized stick figures that were almost perfectly camouflaged among the twigs and branches.

“For all that is sacred!” Pansy shouted from somewhere inside the next habitat.

Hermione hurried over and froze in awe of the sight before her. There was a beautiful alpine landscape inside her chest of drawers. The vast mountain range went on for ages. As she stepped forward into the enclosure, she found herself on one of the snow-covered peaks. Draco had created the most beautiful and realistic habitats, and it quite literally took her breath away. A herd of six noble and majestic Abraxan Winged Horses was soaring in the perfectly-clear, bright blue sky of the mountain range, weaving in and out of the mounts, stretching their ivory wings.

As Pansy and Hermione sat on a rock on top of a precipice, Hermione couldn’t deny the warm feeling that was twirling in her heart. Draco had gone out of his way to make her Christmas special. The warm feeling inside her didn’t last long though as she also began to feel a bit nauseous. Assuming it may have something to do with the high altitude of her location, the thin air of the mountain top to blame, she decided to abandon the Abraxans and snowy landscape.

Upon coming back into the circular room, she was startled to find Crookshanks noises becoming much more distressed. He was pacing the enclosure next to her with enthusiasm, his large paws bounding from one end of the ward and back, his ears up and the tip of his tail twitching.

She couldn’t contain the giggles when she set her eyes on the seven Kneazle kittens tumbling around a carpeted room. Two, one black and one white, were jumping in and out of a cardboard box, while three others, an orange and two brown ones, were playing and hunting each other. Finally two grey striped kittens were playing with mice toys. They were so fluffy and cute, and Hermione just wanted to cuddle them all and be their mummy. Crookshanks must have been thinking the same thing the whole time because he was desperately pawing at the magical ward, trying to break its defences.

Hermione thought that the wards only granted access inside the habitats to people, but she decided to see what would happen if she picked up her cat to step inside. The ward let them through, and Crookshanks immediately wiggled from her arms to join the kittens that were playing with the mice. All the younglings hurried to the big furball, attempting to bite his ears and pull him down to the ground.

“This is so sweet,” Pansy said with a slightly unimpressed tone, remaining outside the ward with her arms crossed. “Too bad I hate cats. Let’s move on!” She didn’t wait for Hermione and walked away.

Hermione watched the witch as she stalked away and rolled her eyes at the display. Hesitating for a moment, she looked back to the playing feline creatures, wanting desperately to cuddle them. She picked up the white kitten and snuggled it close to her face, smiling as it began to purr loudly against her cheek.

“Mother of all the snakes in this world!” Hermione heard Pansy’s astonished exclamation and reluctantly stopped petting the kitten. She set it back down to see what Pansy was on about - the woman could be so dramatic sometimes.

What she saw in the next habitat left her speechless. Eight massive Sea Serpents swam in a deep pool. The green, murky waters blurring the extent of how large the creatures were - they were fifty feet long at least, and Hermione knew they could grow up to one hundred.  She briefly wondered how this ward kept the water in, quickly thanking whatever it was, that it worked so well. Suddenly a massive equine head appeared in front of her, it’s silver eye unblinking, making her freeze, but it quickly swam on, the serpentine body glistening as it rippled throughout the water. The beasts were mesmerizing, swerving in and out of a patch of seaweed, hunting fish that tried to hide among the broad leaves of the plant. Everything about it looked dangerous, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of it.

“There’s enough material in this drawer to send you and Draco to Azkaban for life,” Pansy commented drily.

Hermione shook herself slightly from the sight, nodded, and walked away, unable to argue with that. She wondered how Draco could have acquired so many animals and hide everything from her. Now that Pansy had brought the thought to the front her mind, she was nervous. What had Draco been thinking? This was way too much, and what were they going to do with all of these creatures. There was no way they would be able to properly care for them. Was this a joke? Had she been duped? Her belly rolled with nervous anxiety.

She had to admit that he knew how to be sneaky. She had never caught him in the preparation of his big marriage proposal either. Hermione smiled at the memory of how he had knelt in front of her in the Great Hall during their reunion gathering back in September, completely surprising her and making quite the scene in front of way too many people. Still, she grinned happily at the picture in her mind, the look on his face one she would never forget - his confident smirk for all to see, his vulnerable eyes just for her.

Her belly rolled again, promptly wiping the happy thought away, and she turned away from Pansy, her lips forming into a grimace of disgust as she felt her belly flip upward, forcing her to bend over and retch on the floor.

“Hermione, for Salazar’s sake, they are just snakes! I quite enjoy them,”  Pansy said, her voice panicked but also amused. Pansy kneeled next to Hermione and stocked her curls behind her ear. “Are you okay?” she finally expressed some concern for her so called friend.

“Yes...I...I don’t know. I haven’t been feeling well lately. I hope I don’t have the flu.” Hermione cleaned the mess with a flick of her wand and stood up.

Pansy observed her with her eyebrows pinched together. “Either the flu or Molly finally managed to feed someone to death. I almost puked too after her Christmas dinner!” Pansy made a face, but Hermione didn’t fall for her haughtiness as she knew perfectly well that Pansy loved her mother-in-law; how she managed to go past her pureblooded prejudices and date Ron, she never understood, but as Pansy put it, Ron was well endowed enough to go past his poor upbringing. Hermione cringed at the thought.

A low musical moan, similar to the first sound that drew them to investigate, caught Hermione’s attention. She moved to the next enclosure, hand swiping her sweaty brow as she did. When she saw more bloody birds, the witch let out an exasperated groan.

The ninth gift was a flock of Augurey birds. While she did find the creatures very intriguing, she absolutely didn’t want more birds. She watched them, nonetheless, a few peaking shyly from their thickets of thorns, while the others sat further away looking up to the dark, swirling clouds of impending rain of their enclosure’s sky, singing their mournful tune.

“Nope, I’m not going next to those creatures, they are bad luck. Draco could have chosen something else!” Pansy quickly walked past the cage and halted abruptly in front of the next habitat.

Hermione watched Pansy approach the next enclosure. Her dark eyes grew wide for a second, then she blinked and threw her head back, laughing uncontrollably. Hermione arched her brow and approached the witch.

Upon closer review, Hermione found a habitat that looked much like the one of the Nifflers, but this one was void of any shiny objects and just looked like a large den underground. She, too, started laughing, a hand over her mouth, as she noticed there were ten overgrown ferrets in this one, bouncing and rolling around.

“What are those?” Hermione asked as she was not familiar with that particular magical creature.

As the creatures noticed their audience they bounded forward and began screeching at both Hermione and Pansy. There were three closest to Hermione standing on their hind legs, each one chanting a different insult. “Mudblood! Mudblood!” - “Bushy Haired!” - “Know-it-all!” The ferrets continued their taunts, enjoying the way Hermione’s face contorted into one of offence. Pansy, on the other side of her, laughed harder until one stepped up to her and squealed above them all “Pug-Nosed Bitch”.

The insult slowed Pany’s laughter, but she still snickered to herself, quite amused by the creatures. Hermione was not impressed by the very rude beasts, her previous enjoyment being swiftly stripped from her, and she wondered what in the world this annoying thing could have any use for. She hastily silenced the rodents and turned to Pansy, waiting for her to quiet down and give her an explanation.

“Oh, this is funny shite!” Pansy finally spoke, wiping away a few tears as she gave Hermione the answer she was waiting for. “These are Jarveys. They read people’s minds and speak the words that they hate the most. You have to admit that Draco the Ferret would have said the same thing if he had the use of his vocal cords while transfigured. He spent weeks sulking over that incident in fourth year.”

Hermione wasn’t amused at all. Once silenced, the creatures had lost interest with the women and had gone back to rolling around their dirt covered floor. With a frustrated huff, Hermione walked away and inspected the second to last enclosure. It was the smallest room yet and inside held eleven, custard yellow Puffskeins. The spheric fur balls were roughly the size of a quaffle and sat humming and vibrating comfortably on a soft bed of rugs and blankets.

Hermione stared at the peaceful, yet almost pointless creatures and suddenly felt really tired. She was overwhelmed with the whole situation of what she and Pansy had discovered and, frankly, wished for a soft bed to fall asleep in and just close her mind off for a bit. She really didn’t feel herself, maybe she really was coming down with something.

She glanced to the last habitat before making a full circle and saw an empty white room. Turning on her heel she made her way towards the stairs.  “Pansy, I’m going to lay down, I can’t see any creature in the last enclosure - I think it’s empty.” Draco must have yet to acquire the last one, she thought with a shudder, dreading to know the details of Draco’s plan.

* * *

“Hermione?” Draco called, opening the door carefully and quietly, hoping that he was alone. If he wasn’t, he had to avoid drawing attention to himself and quickly stow away what he brought home. When she didn’t answer, he made sure he was alone, scanning the flat, before making his way for his secret drawer.

He skipped down the stairs in a hurry, knowing that he didn’t have much time. When he reached the bottom, he immediately went to the last empty slot on the right and sauntered to the centre of the area. Gripping his wand firmly between his fingers, he began moving around the space, reciting complicated spells and waving his wand to form an intricate pattern in the air erecting a ward to keep the creatures safe from harm. He then created a green grass landscape that extended as far as eyes could see, and a single Hawthorn tree with a thick trunk and bushy canopy appeared in the field. Draco approached it, extracting a tiny red box from his cloak and casting an Enlarging Charm on it. The box became larger, and Draco deposited it next to the tree with two hands, delicately trying not to tip it too much.

He didn’t want to open the box just yet, in case what dwelled within was angry at him, so he backed away and exited the habitat. He magically released the top of the box and activated the ward to keep the last of his twelve days of gifts from escaping.

He began pacing the perimeter of the secret room he created in the drawer and checked on the creatures, making sure they had food, water, and the habitat was still enchanted correctly. The Puffskeins were rolling and purring, while the Jarveys all slept in an awkward ball of fluffy tails. The Augurey birds softly moaned in their nests, the enchanted ceiling no longer threatening rain. The Sea Serpents slithered in the water, and the Kneazle kittens were… Draco’s jaw fell open at the sight that he found in the feline habitat.

Hermione was asleep on what he quickly assumed was a conjured pallet, and surrounding her on all sides were the purring furballs. Crookshanks was there too, affectionately licking one of the kittens as they both warmed the sleeping witch’s feet. He looked on fondly at the sight, but he also felt disappointed that she had found out about his secret and ruined her surprise.

“Granger!” he demanded, entering the ward with a whoosh.

Hermione jolted up into a sitting position, eyes half open and heavy with sleep, while the kittens hissed in surprised, scurrying away from her.

“You are not supposed to be down here!” Draco complained, his lower lip jutting out in a way that she would only be privy to.

Her eyes narrowed, and he could tell by the purse of her lips that she was not happy with his sudden appearance. “Okay, first of all, there’s a charm to silence things...use it,” she scolded, and Draco cursed silently for forgetting to put the charm up only once, that morning. “Second, are you barmy? What is all this - we could get arrested.” Hermione slowly stood, her face growing paler.

“You told me you wanted twelve days of Christmas! I followed the damned Muggle song to the letter! Don’t complain now!” Draco clipped, his voice shaking with snark and scorn.

“What? There are no magical creatures in the Muggle song,” she answered. Her eyes danced with skepticism before she continued, “And I didn’t mean it literally, Draco. I just wanted you to be in a jolly Christmas spirit for the Holidays!” Hermione crossed her arms, ready to defend herself.

Draco tilted his head a bit to the side, eyebrows high into his hairline. He couldn’t believe what Hermione was telling him - that arsehole had gotten one over him. Smoothing his hair and inhaling sharply, he calmly said in a threatening tone that would scare away all the creatures in this room. “I’ll kill Potter! He told me what to buy, and that the Muggle song was very specific about what kind of creatures and how many to get for each day!”

Hermione couldn’t contain a nervous chuckle, and it bubbled up from her, the mirth reaching her tired eyes. Draco could read her like an open book, her thoughts playing vividly across her features. While he could tell that she was enjoying the prank in the fullest by the dancing of her eyes, he also knew that Harry might want to be watching his back. By the furrow in her brow, he was sure that his witch couldn’t help the vindictive part of herself that was already planning her revenge.

“Harry pulled a prank on you. On us, really! We should get back at him for sure-” she stopped suddenly, her mouth frozen open and her eyes wide with worry.

Draco took a step closer to her, fear seeping through him as her face turned a ghostly white. His hand reached for her just as she quickly clamped one hand to her belly and the other to her mouth. “What’s wrong?” Draco asked, hurrying to her side and wrapping an arm around her back to steady her.

“I don’t know,” she shook her head, “I feel weird. I’m so tired, and my stomach is nauseous. I was taking a nap after finding this place. When I remembered that I left Crookshanks down here, I came back but then I fell asleep again.” Hermione leaned into his chest, burying her head into his jumper.

“I’m calling a healer, let’s get you back upstairs.” Draco gently pulled her out of the Kneazle den, forgetting the elder cat again - he didn’t seem to mind. As they started to ascend the stairs, Hermione halted them as she glanced at her left. They looked to the direction of a shimmery light that had captured both their interest, and she slowly stumbled back down the few steps and over to the habitat that Draco had just barely created.

“What are those?” Hermione questioned softly as she entered the enclosure. She smiled in delight as a swarm of sparkling fairies flew right to her. Their large wings were a flutter of colours, and their tittering laughs made her giggle in return. “Fairies? Did you get me fairies? This is the most marvellous thing I’ve ever seen!”

Draco’s lips opened in a warm smile, but then his eyes went wide and he gulped audibly. While Hermione was looking at the fairies dancing around her, Draco watched as they twirled and twittered in front his witch, creating an infinite symbol in front of her belly.

“The fairies are attracted to your womb,” Draco stupidly pointed out when he was able to find his voice. Hermione glanced up to him, a confused look across her features.

Draco spoke again, this time his voice shaky, “Y-you d-don’t know what it means… I’m pregnant. I mean, we are, _you are pregnant_!” He stepped closer to her, eyes dancing between the pair of hers trying to read what she was thinking, but all he could think of was that he was going to be a dad - a smile uncontrollably pulled at one side of his mouth. “We are expecting a baby, Hermione! Fairies sense these sorts of things.”

A kaleidoscope of colours and emotions passed over her face; astonishment, fear, worry all danced across her features as she tugged on her lip with her teeth. She avoided his gaze, attempting to take it all in. Finally, she blinked and settled on a joyful smile as her golden irises met his own silvery eyes. He took her hands in his own and gently brushed his thumbs on the back of her hands. She looked up to him, tears of joy glistening at the corner of her eyes. Draco pulled her closer so that he could press his lips softly against hers.

She sighed into his mouth and eagerly met his kiss, but as he touched his tongue against hers she pulled back and gave him a look that clearly said he had done something wrong.

“You need to return these creatures, I can’t have you going to Azkaban now that I’m pregnant!” she ordered in her usual bossy tone.

He chuckled, finding the joy in her chastising words. At the sight of her narrowed eyes, he cleared his throat and explained that he didn’t acquire any of them in a legal creature store so he couldn’t just bring them back. He doubted that even Auror Potter could find the shady vendors again.

“Did Harry help you traffic illegal creatures? I’ll hex him blind, that two faced arsehole.”

“Calm down! It’ll be alright. Potter and I already had a plan from the beginning. We technically saved these creatures,” he began, catching her worried eyes and soothing her by kissing her on the forehead. “We are going to bring them to the Scamander's. Potter assured me that Luna would gladly accept all of the beasts under her care at the sanctuary for rescued beasts...or whatever she calls it.”

Hermione watched him, and even if her face held a sheen of sweat and was pale like she might faint at any moment she looked strong and poised as she held her head tall and she asked him, “Maybe we could keep the Kneazles? It would break Crookshanks’ heart if we gave them away…” Hermione gave him her best impression of big, begging kitten eyes.  

“Oh, fine, it’ll be good practice for when my baby boy comes,” he conceded.

Hermione glared at him. “Kittens are very different from babies, Draco! Also, I want a girl.”

* * *

 One year later…

“On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me a partridge in a pear tree…” Harry placed an arm on Draco’s shoulder, dangerously swaying sideways.

Draco briefly glared at him sideways, scrolling the arm off of him but he quickly gave in to the silly drunken singing. “Two turtle doves, three sodding Hippogriffs, Four gold stuffing Nifflers, five woodlice eating Bowtruckles.”

They paused their unsteady walk in the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron and stared at each other, both trying to remember the words of the song they had created together to remember Harry’s epic prank that led to the discovery of Hermione’s pregnancy.

Red eyed and alcohol fuming his breath, Draco was the first to remember. “Six flying Abraxans, seven purring Kneazles - that are still infesting my home, eight swimming Sea Serpents, nine mourning Augurey, ten-” He closed his mouth and continued in a non-singing voice, “I don’t remember Potter. We shouldn’t have had that last Muggle flaming cocktail!”

Harry laughed hysterically for a moment, leaning on the shifting wall to Diagon Alley. “Ten bouncing ferrets!” He tried to tune his words to the carol jingle but couldn’t, his voice cracked by the laughter.

“Fuck you, Potter! I’ll hex you!” Malfoy grabbed his wand, almost dropping it with his drunk fumbling. Harry’s eyes widened in fear and he stumbled backwards, raising his hands to plead for mercy. “No, please! Hermione already made me spend last New Year’s Eve with warts in my arse crack!”

Malfoy laughed at the memory of Harry’s discomfort. Shrugging, he finished the song, “It was ten mangy insulting Jarveys, eleven useless Puffskeins, twelve dancing - pregnancy announcing - Fairies!”

They kept on their friendly banter until Harry froze, turning into the personification of fear. “I need to go back to Ginny before she kills me. Now that she’s pregnant and Banshee-like-”

“Oh. For Salazar’s hairy ballsack! You did it - you are going to produce more green eyed, messy haired, goggle wearing gits!” Draco bent over, snickering.

“Ha, ha, ha, you are so funny! You better go home and help Hermione with the baby, she can be very vindictive. How’s little Pyxis, by the way?”

“As loud as a Mandrake, but as beautiful as her mother,” he declared proudly.

“Yes, thank Merlin, she took after Hermione!”

They both stumbled away, trying not to faceplant on the cobbles while they both made their way back to their beloved.

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A very happy Christmas to you and yours. Thanks for reading our story! Kudos and comments are gifts to the writers.


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